Disclosure
by upsidedownbutterfly
Summary: Leia has a question for Mon Mothma.  Set relatively soon after ROTJ.


Title: Disclosure

Author: upsidedownbutterfly

Summary: Leia has a question for Mon Mothma. Set relatively soon after _ROTJ._

Rating: G

Disclaimer: They're not mine, people.

Author's Note: I may be taking a slight liberty with the canon here with exactly how much Mon Mothma knew initially about the relationship between Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker although I can't recall it ever actually being made _definite_ that she didn't know.

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><p>The moment Mon Mothma looked up to see Leia entering her office, she knew something was wrong. The young princess, typically the very image of calm, collected poise, was now standing before her fidgeting nervously with her hands and looking everywhere but at the woman she was ostensibly there to see.<p>

"Is there something I can do for you, Leia?" Mon Mothma asked, keeping her voice as neutral as possible. Leia looked like she might bolt at any moment.

"I…" managed Leia before stopping short. She appeared to become aware of her uncharacteristic hand-wringing, because she dropped her hands to her sides, where they promptly began toying with the fabric of her skirt. Taking a deep breath, she started again. "There's something I need to ask you. There's a very good chance you don't know the answer, but I think if there's anyone left who does know, it's probably you."

Uncertain how to respond, Mon Mothma said nothing, and both women were silent for a long a moment. It was only when it became clear that Leia was not going to continue without prompting that Mon Mothma finally spoke. "You know you can ask me anything, Leia," she said with what she hoped was a soothing smile.

"I was wondering if my –" she hesitated slightly, "father ever mentioned my biological family. Who they were? Why they gave me up? If they're still alive?"

Mon Mothma shook her head sadly, her features schooled in a mask of serenity to avoid betraying the surprise she felt at Leia's question. "I'm sorry, Leia, but you're right; I don't know. Bail and I were very good friends for a very long time, but there were some things he never discussed with me. You were one of them."

"Never?" asked Leia.

"Never," Mon Mothma confirmed. "I'll admit I was always curious as well, but all my inquiries, even the most subtle ones, were always rebuffed. Bail claimed that the less people knew, the safer everyone was."

Leia started almost imperceptibly. "So _he_ knew."

"He," Mon Mothma began to reply, before pausing to fully consider Leia's statement. Finally, she nodded. "I can't say with absolute certainty, but yes, I believe he did."

The look on Leia's face gave Mon Mothma the somewhat bizarre impression of someone who was having trouble deciding whether to breathe a sigh of relief or burst into tears.

"And my mother?"

"I couldn't say, Leia. I never knew your mother as well as I would have liked."

Leia nodded absently, her gaze fixed on a far away location somewhere to the right of Mon Mothma's head. She had ceased fidgeting though, her hands now lying still at her sides.

"May I inquire as to what brought this on?" Mon Mothma asked. "I certainly understand the desire to learn who your birth parents were, but this is not something I've ever heard you mention in the past."

Leia shrugged. "Honestly, it was never something I truly cared about. Bail and Breha loved me, raised me – they were my parents. I never needed anyone else."

"So what changed?"

Leia made a strangled sound as a look of pure panic flashed across her face. For a moment, Mon Mothma really did believe the princess was about to turn and run from the room. Instead, she took a calming breath, and then another, before responding.

"I have a brother."

No amount of political experience could have hoped to disguise the expression of shocked disbelief that Mon Mothma's face assumed. She barely managed to keep her voice from rising in astonishment as she dumbly repeated, "You have a brother?"

Leia nodded, her gaze now resolutely fixed on her feet. Her hands had once again returned to toying with her skirt. "We were twins, separated at birth. He only found out on his last trip to Dagobah. I think General Kenobi's spirit told him, and –"

A cold ball of icy horror gripped Mon Mothma's chest. "Luke? Luke's your brother?" she all but demanded.

Leia glanced up in confusion, and then apparently realizing that in her nervousness she'd managed to omit that detail, nodded.

The breath left Mon Mothma in a rush, and she slumped back in her chair. She realized belatedly that she was shaking her head almost violently. "No, no, no," she said, desperation beginning to lace her tone. "He can't be. Someone has to be wrong."

Leia's brow furrowed in bewilderment, and she shook her head. "No, it's true. I can… I can _feel_ it." Mon Mothma shuddered inwardly at the emphasis Leia had put on 'feel'. "Why don't you think…" Leia trailed off expectantly.

Mon Mothma closed her eyes, trying and failing to stifle a shaky sigh. The silence stretched on for what felt like hours as she attempted to convince herself that she had really fallen asleep at her desk and this entire conversation had been nothing more than an awful, stress-induced nightmare.

But when she opened her eyes again a minute later, Leia was still standing before her wearing an expression of puzzlement and curiosity.

Mon Mothma straightened in her chair, laying her arms upon her desk and lacing her fingers together. Pausing to choose her words carefully, she cautiously met Leia's gaze and began. "I don't know what Luke has told you – I don't even know what Luke himself knows – but…" she hesitated, and decided to alter her approach slightly before continuing. "I knew his father, Anakin Skywalker."

Leia's eyes widened. "You knew my father?"

It was only by clenching her hands together so tightly it hurt that Mon Mothma was able to keep from wincing visibly at Leia's remark. Taking a deep breath, she continued unsteadily, "I knew Jedi Skywalker, not particularly well, but we did meet on more than one occasion. But more importantly," she paused again, gathering her composure. "More importantly, and unlike many people, I also know what _became_ of him."

She glanced up. "Leia, Luke's father, _your _father if you believe this, didn't die in the Purges –"

Leia's voice was soft but sure as she interrupted. "He committed them."

Mon Mothma felt her jaw drop. Leia's gaze was sad but also steady for the first time since she had walked through the office door. "I know," she said. She cocked her head thoughtfully before amending slightly, "We know."

Mon Mothma sat speechless at her desk, her mind still struggling for words with which to react to this series of ground-shaking revelations and finding none.

Uncertainty was beginning to creep back into Leia's expression. "I understand that this could make me a certain political liability. If you think that –"

Mon Mothma held up a hand to cut Leia off. "No," she said, finally finding her voice. "No, absolutely not. This changes nothing."

A small, relieved smile crept on to Leia's face, and she let out a breath that Mon Mothma suspected she'd been holding for some time. "I'm glad," she said simply. "But I just thought you should know."

Mon Mothma returned her smile, her political poise beginning to reassert itself. "And I thank you for that. But I also promise you that if this ever does become an issue, you – and Luke – can count on my full support."

Leia nodded her thanks and turned to leave the office. She had made it almost to the door before Mon Mothma was struck by a realization.

"Your father, Bail, he knew," she said, and Leia paused, half turning back towards her. "He knew, and he still loved you. That's what you wanted to know, wasn't it?"

Leia nodded faintly.

"He _did _love you, Leia, more than anything. And even if he _didn't_ know, nothing could have changed that. You were his world."

Leia smiled, a real, full smile this time. "Thank you," she said quietly, before turning and exiting the office.

As the door swished closed, Mon Mothma leaned back in her chair and let out a long sigh. After a moment, she sat back up and, shaking her head clear, returned to her endless pile of reports and requisitions. As she did so, she offered up silent forgiveness to the spirit of Bail Organa for her years of infuriation caused by his steadfast refusal to answer even the most basic questions concerning his adopted daughter's origins.

"I _suppose_ that was a pretty good reason," she conceded.


End file.
